Finding My Way
by HollidayMourner
Summary: Italy and Germany's relationship was a little less than abusive. When Italy has finally had enough, he leaves. The damaged nation needs the support of friends and family to build himself back up again, but Germany is no worse for wear. Or is he? The saying goes, "You don't realize what you have until it's gone." Well, Italy is definitely gone. I do not own anything. OOC characters.
1. Chapter 1: Realization

**A/N: It's been a while since I've written anything, but I'm trying to get back into my art. I recently started drawing again, which has now led me back to writing. I'm going to try to write more often, but I've been so busy lately there is no telling when I'll get the time to sit down long enough to write more than a sentence. But I am trying to force myself out of a slump I've been in for a long while, and hopefully this will help get me back on my feet.**

His fingernails were like knives piercing my flesh as his grip tightened on my hips. I cried out in pain as he thrust his cock deeper inside me. The occasional thrust to my prostate sent shivers of pleasure up my spine, but those were soon washed away by the waves of pain from his abuse.

"Such a tight little hole... feels so damn good..." He grunted, slamming his large cock into me. His grip tightened on my hip as one of his hands traveled up my back and around my throat, scratching and pinching as they went.

I moaned as his cock hit my prostate, my eyes rolling back into my head before the pleasure was replaced with pain once again. "Ger-Germany..." I gasped, tears beginning to bead at the corners of my eyes from the abuse and lack of oxygen.

Opening my mouth in a futile attempt to take a deeper breath, two fingers were placed inside my mouth. "Suck," was the simple command. Closing my mouth around the digits, I swirled my tongue around each finger and sucked until Germany pulled them out of my mouth. His hand returned momentarily to my hips, bracing my bottom half for another brutal thrust.

Burying my face into the pillow and biting into the fabric, I grunted and cried against the material as the thrusts grew more erratic and crushing.

"Ita...ly!" Germany moaned and he released his seed inside me. He thrust forcefully against my bottom, his fingernails digging painfully into my hips as he pulled my body tightly against his. I could feel his seed filling me up, leaking out of my abused hole as he pulled his cock out. His hands still gripped my hips as he admired his handiwork. When he finally released my hips, one of his hands traveled down to my own cock, now only half-hard, and tugged roughly on the appendage, while he other hand landed painfully on my ass. The slapped echoed in the room and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

Without a word, Germany's weight vanished from the bed. Looking over my shoulder, I made sure that he was gone before reaching behind me. I touched my abused hole and feeling the liquids – both my blood and Germany's cum – was what finally broke the dam. My tears flooded from my eyes, my cries muffled in the pillows. I brought my hands and feet up in the fetal position, cringing at the sharp ache around my middle.

My tears flowed freely after being suppressed for so long. I didn't cry just because of the pain, even though that alone was reason enough. I cried also for the loss of a friend, the loss of a lover. The loss of my innocence and happiness.

As I cried, memories from before rolled through my mind. Germany yelling at me to run faster, that the French would find me and kill me if I didn't get away (even though we were just training). Germany snapping my white flag in half whenever I would offer him one that I had made specially for him. Germany scowling and trying to hide his pain when he saw what the French had done to me after my capture. Germany tearing up when I finally admitted my feelings for him. Our first date was at the beach - I even made a sand replica of him to show my adoration.

As my tears dried up, the memories turned sour. The screaming began again, this time worse than our training times. The hitting and pinching began. Rough sex. Neglect. Germany never asked what I wanted anymore – he only took. He never cared if I enjoyed the sex, only that he got off. I don't even know where he went after he left the room. Probably drinking the last of Prussia's beer and then coming up with an alibi when his brother realizes it's all gone.

My attitude changed from sad to angry, then back to sad as I realized how far I had fallen. Fratello doesn't even try to call anymore to see if I'm okay. I guess he finally got tired of the same old answers: "Everything is fine. Germany is so kind and loving!" Even when it was a lie, those words were always the first to leave my mouth.

My heart ached suddenly for my fratello, for him to knock me over the head and tell me how stupid I was for not listening to him. Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I sat up in bed. The sadness at not having seen or talked to Romano was too much - I had to talk to him and tell him all about Germany. He would know what to do. Fratello always knew what to do when I was sad.

Climbing out of bed, careful not to move too much because of the sharp pain in my backside, I walked around the bed and to the door. Opening the door a crack, I poked my head out and called for Germany – no response. Closing the door quietly, I made my way to the dresser where Germany always hid my phone when he thought I wasn't looking.

Romano's number was number one, two, and three on my speed dial list. Punching in the numbers, I held the phone up to my ear and waited anxiously. The phone rang three times before going to voicemail, which I remembered was Romano's usual phone setting. _At least his phone is on and he didn't turn it off like he always does when he's mad at someone_ , I thought.

Sighing, I tried again. This time, it cut off in the middle of the first ring and went to voicemail. S _o Romano is ignoring my calls. No problem. I'll just try again._ I hit thr redial button and waited patiently. This time, Romano answered.

"What do you want, you bastard?" Romano snapped.

"I want to talk to mi fratello!" I chirped happily, excited to hear my brother's voice again.

Romano's frustration was obvious in his tone, but I tried to ignore it. "About what?"

I thought about how I was going to respond, but couldn't find a better way than the truth. So I took a deep breath and said, "About Germany."

Romano groaned angrily. "Yes, Italy, I know – he's the best goddamned person in the world. I don't care!"

"But fra -" there was a click, and the line went dead. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at the glowing screen in horror. Romano was my last hope. If he won't listen to me, how am I going to be able to figure out what to do with Germany? How will I be able to get everything back to the way it was supposed to be?

The bedroom door opened with a bang. Germany stepped through the door, his eyes going immediately to the phone in my hand. "Italy." His voice echoed through the room, his tone sharp and dangerous. "What are you doing?"

I looked at the phone in my hand sadly, then took a deep breath before looking Germany in the face. "I... I.. Germany, I have to talk to you."

 **A/N: Corny dumb ending, I know I know. But let me know what you think in a review, and shoot me a favorite and a follow if you're feeling like keeping up on my stories. I'll get to them eventually. Thank you and have a lovely day. :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Goodbye

**A/N: I wasn't planning on this being more than a one-shot, but then I got to thinking: What if it was a story? How far can I take it if I write an entire story of this little drabble? And here we are. Now, when I say "how far can I go," I'm really just going along with what the reviewers and readers want and what I believe would add to the plot. So hopefully this takes us all on an emotional journey. Anyway, enjoy.**

Germany's eyes remained cold and guarded as he reached the dresser in three long strides. Without saying a word, he held out his hand, silently demanding the phone back.

Just as silently, I placed the phone - screen up - in the palm of his hand.

"Talk about what, Italy?" Germany's voice was hard, grating against my flimsy nerves. I watched as his hand closed over the phone slowly, watched in agony as he slid the object into his back pocket.

Gulping audibly, visibly shaking, I lifted a hand and pointed between the two of us.

Germany's eyebrow rose slightly. The silence between us grew as he stared down his nose at my shaking form. Finally, he spoke. "Then let's talk." His voice was strained, as if he was holding something back. When I didn't make a move to speak, he motioned towards the bed.

My eyes followed his hand. The bed's sheets were rumpled, the pillows tossled. A shiver ran down my spine as I watched him walk over to the bed and sit precariously on the edge. His hand patted the mattress beside him, his agitation showing freely on his face and the way he held his body.

My legs carried me over to the bed, but I didn't sit beside Germany where his hand was still patting the mattress. Instead, I sat closer to the headboard, lifting a pillow and sitting in it's place. I clutched the pillow to my chest, struggling to even out my breathing. While I tried to focus on my breathing, the words I had wanted to say to Romano flitted through my mind. My brain stuggled with sorting out the order of the sentences and the wording of each, that I didn't even realize I had started to tear up again until Germany cleared his throat. I shook my head and swallowed the lump that was in my throat, finally deciding on how I was going to start the conversation - no, the confession.

Before I could speak, however, Germany spoke first. "I love you."

His tone was gruff, rushed. Instead of making my heart flutter like it used to, a sharp stab of pain went through my chest. I could only shake my head in response.

"I love you."

I shook my head more firmly, taking a deep breath before looking Germany in the eyes. "No," I murmured. "You don't." My head continued to shake as Germany's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

"How dare you tell me I don't love you?! How dare you assume that after all this time, I keep you around just for the fun of it. If I didn't love you, you wouldn't be here, now would you?"

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes as I listened to Germany's words. In a way, he had a point. He must care about me in some way if he hasn't made me go away by now.

But then I looked down at my lap. Seeing my bare legs tremble, remembering the harsh treatment during sex and the lack of contact beforehand, I shook my head more firmly. Gathering up what little courage I could, I lifted my head once again and looked Germany in the eyes.

"Whatever you love, it is not Feliciano Vargas. Whatever you love, it is not what I am willing to give you." The words that left my mouth didn't sound like the words of Northern Italy. I stared in shock at my hands still clutching the pillow, my mouth hanging open.

"Of course I love Feliciano Vargas. That's you, isn't it?" The frustration in Germany's voice was barely contained, his hands in his lap clenched into tight fists.

Eyeing his fists as I spoke, I put the pillows down and stood up, beginning to gather my clothes. "You don't love me for me, Ludwig. You love the piece of ass you have free access to. Goodbye."

I began pulling my clothes on, careful not to move my legs too much. As I was tugging up my pants, however, Germany's hands found their way to my shoulders. His nails bit into my flesh, drawing thin tracks of blood as he shoved my back against the wall.

His face was inches from mine, his teeth bared and his breath hot against my cheek. "Where do you think you're going?"

I gritted my teeth to try and distract from the pain of his fingernails. My shirt was still gripped tightly in my fist, and I used that had to try and push against Germany's chest. He didn't budge. "I want to go home," I wheezed out, wincing as Germany raked his nails down my chest and grabbed my hip.

Germany's tongue flicked out and licked a tear from my cheek. His breathing slowed and his voice was husky as he said, "You're so damn irresistable when you cry." His fingers slipped underneath the waistband of my pants as his other hand moved up to my chin. He placed rough kisses along my jawline, nipping the skin as he went. Ocasionally the bites were harder than necessary, causing me to cry out in pain and shove weakly against his chest.

"Do you want this, Italy?" Germany breathed in my ear before nipping at my earlobe. His hand traveled farther down the inside of my pants, wrapping around my soft member. He began to pump and stroke it, attempting to bring it to life.

I wiggled in his grasp, pounding my fist weakly against his chest. "No, I don't want this," I cried, fighting to free myself from him.

"Then what does the baby want, hmm?" Germany's grip tightened on my shaft momentarily, tugging roughly.

"I want to leave. I want you to let me go so I can leave." My body shook violently as Germany's hand tightened on my jaw. I could feel his fingers bruising my flesh as he forced me to look him in the eye.

"What did you just say?"

"I want to go home. Let me go so I can go home." Germany growled in frsutration, throwing my head back against the wall roughly. He released me from around the hips and back away, letting me slide to the floor. My head ached from the impact with the wall, and my jaw throbbed from the pressure of his fingers.

Germany's boot connected with my thigh, sending a sharp pain through my leg and up my back. "Get up and leave then. And don't even think of coming back when you realize your brother doesn't love you anymore." With that, he stormed from the room, slamming the door open behind him.

I stayed on the floor for what felt like hours, holding my leg where Germany had kicked me and crying. The tears burned my cheeks as they fell. My chest heaved as I struggled to control my breathing, forcing myself to calm down enough to finish getting dressed.

Standing was a challenge all on its own. Using the wall as leverage, I pulled my shirt over my head and straightened it out as best I could. My body ached from where Germany's fingers had dug into my skin, both on my shoulders and on my hips. The fabric brushing against the cuts sent shivers of pain down my spine, and I gritted my teeth against them as I moved toward the closet, where my shoes were tucked neatly into the back corner.

As I walked down the hallway, wincing occasionally at the pain from Germany's rough treatment. Germany was nowhere to be found, and for that I was grateful. If I saw him again, I didn't think I would be able to resist him again.

Prussia was blocking the front door. He leaned casually across the door, a cherry stem poking from between his lips. His eyes were slitted in that usual predatory way of his, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

I sighed in defeat. I should have known it had been too easy.

Prussia turned his head in my direction at the sound. His lips turned up into a sly grin. "I was wondering why West told me to guard the door. All this for you?" Prussia's laugh echoed through the room, ringing in my ears and making me wince.

"Where is Germany?" My voice sounded small and frail, and I hated myself for it. Showing my weakness in front of someone as loud and strong as Prussia... it disgusted me. I lowered my head some more when Prussia c rouched in front of me.

"He went out for a bit. Told me to stand guard at the door until he came back. What's all this about?" Prussia's fingertips brushed against my cheek, and I winced at the unexpected contact. His fingers were cold.

Prussia's fingers moved up my cheek to my forehead, brushing my hair away from my face. His gasp was loud. "Hey what ha - "

"I just want to leave, Prussia." My words came out sounding harsher than I had intended, and I looked up into Prussia's eyes to apologize. There was a flicker of emotion in his eyes as he nodded his head and stood up. He ruffled a hand through my hair before stepping aside.

"Go home and clean yourself up, Feli." Prussia ruffled my hair affectionately then made his way down the hall.

I stared after him for a while before closing the distance between the door and myself. I flung the heavy wooden door open and ran out in the fresh air, new tears cutting tracks down my cheeks.

 **A/N: These chapters are a little shorter than I would have normally liked, but at this rate, I'll be able to add more length to the story and the chapters will come out quicker if I don't worry about length. But anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story. Just drop a review and let me know what you thought and if you have any suggestions for later chapters. Favorites and follows are also appreciated. Have a lovely day you guys. :)**


	3. Chapter 3: Home Sweet Home

**A/N: As I'm sure you all have noticed, I am not a fan of page breaks. I feel like the majority of my chapters will be around the 1500 word mark, give or take a few hundred. I might try and aim for longer chapters towards the end, but it all does depend on what you guys want. Longer chapters - which means less updates - or shorter chapters with more frequent updates? I'm in the process of writing my fourth chapter right now, so just drop me a review and let me know what you guys think and what you would prefer from here on out.**

I had never been happier to see a closed door than I was when my house came into sight. The lights were all off and the house looked empty, but that didn't matter. There was a spare key underneath the doormat.

With my head hanging low and my hands stuffed into my pants pockets, I made my way up the stairs. When I looked down to find the doormat, it was nowhere in sight, and neither was the spare house key. I looked around in confusion. Where did the doormat go? What happened to the spare key?

Furrowing my brows in confusion, I walked over to the closest potted plant and searched throughout the leaves and underneath the pot, but found nothing. I searched the rest of the plants in a similar way but still found nothing. My melancholy quickly started to turn to panic as I searched every possible hiding spot on and around the porch, but still found nothing.

Taking deep breaths, I counted slowly to ten in my mind to try and stave off the panic rising like bile in my throat. After taking several deep breaths, I calmed down enough to try knocking on the door.

My kncukles rasped against the hard wood, the echo carried away by the wind. I clasped my hands together and waited patiently with my head down. After a few minutes of waiting, I knocked once more, this time harder and louder. A few silent moments passed again, and I waited patiently in the same position as before with my hands clasped tightly in front me.

The door finally opened. I cringed and waited for the yelling, but all that followed was silence. I lifted my head slowly, my body shaking in anticpation for the anger that I was sure to be met with.

Spain was standing in the doorway, his expression surprised. "Feliciano, we weren't expecting you. Why didn't you call ahead?"

"Germany still has my phone..." I mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other. I lifted my head slightly, trying to meet Spain's eyes without him seeing the damage that had been to my face.

"Why does - ?" Spain's words were cut short when he caught a glimpse of a bruise on the side of my face. Turning around, Spain's voice rang out through the silent house. "Lovi! Come quick! It's Feliciano!" Spain reached forward and grasped me roughly on the shoulders, pulling me into the house and slamming the door closed. I tried to hide my wince at the pressure of his hands on my wounds, but my face gave me away.

"Feli, what did he do to you?" Spain released my shoulders and fussed about my face, tucking my hair behind my ear and examinging the visible bruises.

Romano appeared around the corner. The scowl on his face gave away how much he detested the sight of me. "What do you want you basta - Feliciano, what the hell?" Romano rushed forward, pushing Spain out of the way and tenderly taking my face in his hands. His fingers brushed over a rather nasty bruise at the back of my jaw, and I flinched and gasped in pain.

Romano's eyes narrowed. "That stupid potato bastard did this to you, didn't he?" The threat was obvious in his tone as he straightened up and grabbed my hand. "Let's get you looked after Feli."

I followed Romano as he led me up the stairs and into his bedroom. The disarray of the bed and the mess of clothes that were scattered throughout the room did not escape my eye, and as horrifying as the sight was, I welcomed the clutter. The contrast from Germany's pristine-clean home threw me off-guard, but it looked more like home.

Romano pushed me gently onto the bed. He kneeled in front of me and motioned for Spain to come inside the room. He peeled himself away from the wall where he had been hovering, unsure, and kneeled next to Romano in front of me. Spain took my hands in his hand rubbed them slowly as Romano studied my face.

"Is this all?" When I shook my head and motioned toward my shoulders and legs, Romano stood up, grabbing Spain by the shoulder and hauling him to his feet. "Go away. I want to be alone with my brother."

Spain looked between Romano and me, his eyes filled with worry. He opened his mouth to argue, but Romano cut him off with a snap of his fingers. "I need to check and see if there are any more," he explained simply, pushing Spain roughly towards the door.

At the reassurance that I was going to be okay alone with Romano, Spain nodded his head and said, "I'll be downstairs cleaning up and watching television if you guys need anything, okay?" And with that he left the room, closing the door tightly behind him.

"Strip," was Romano's next command, his hands on his hips as he looked down at me.

I sputtered, rising to my feet in indignation and wincing from pain at the ache in the bottom half of my body. I sat down on the bed and looked pleadingly up at Romano.

"If you don't take your clothes off of your own free will, I will take them off for you, and I'm sure you remember how that always goes." Romano tapped his foot and crossed his arms impatiently, waiting for me to get a move on.

Sighing in defeat, I pulled my shirt off first, keeping my eyes on Romano's reaction. When he saw the scratches and bruises, his eyes narrowed dangerously. He opened his mouth to say something, but I held up my hand. "I'm not done yet," I explained, lifting up my hips and dropping my pants. The bruises and scrapes were visible beneath the hem of my boxers.

Romano's face clouded with rage. "You let him do this to you and never told anyone?" His fingers flitted over the cuts, prodding gently to see where they started and ended.

"I tried to tell you. But when I mentioned his name, you got angry and hung up on me..." Tears filled my eyes at the memory, at the emotions that flooded my brain. Hurt, betrayal, rejection. Not just from Germany, but from Romano as well. Looking up into my brother's face, I could see the guilt behind his eyes.

"I... I didn't know... Feliciano, I'm so sorry I let this happen to you." Romano cupped the back of my head and pressed our foreheads together. "I won't let him get anywhere near you ever again, I promise." With a soft kiss on my cheek, Romano stood up and walked towards the bathroom.

I sat on the bed feeling vulnerable and shy. My cuts stung from where I had pulled the fabric from them. I wrapped my arms around my chest, shivering as memory after memory of Germany's rough treatment flitted through my mind.

"Feli, I'm going to clean you up the best I can, and then I'm going to need you to do the rest in the shower, okay?" Romano asked as he returned with the first aid kit we always kept in the bathrooms.

I nodded as he kneeled on the egde of the bed. Romano's hands were gentle as he cleaned up my shoulders and face the best he could. He murmured bits and pieces of lullabies to me to keep me calm whenever his hands would press just a little too rough. I felt my eyelids drooping as he worked away all the dried blood, the lullabies filling my head with mental images of women swimming in the clouds and swans on a lake.

I didn't even notice when Romano's hands were no longer touching and dabbing at the wounds, but were in fact tucking me into bed. The warmth that surrounded me when he tucked the blanket gently around my shoulder brought a soft smile to my lips. Finally, my own bed in the comfort of my own home, where I knew Romano was staying just down the hall in case of a bad dream.

I drifted off to sleep with the same soft smile on my face, my worries and fears at bay as I was surrounded by the sounds and smells of home.

 **A/N: Yeah, yeah, corny ending. But hey, corny is cute and Italy is cute. Home safe and sound right? Thank you for reading and don't forget to drop me a review to let me know what you think. I also am willing to accept suggestions for future chapters and a future plot twist, if you lovely littles would like to participate in the writing of the story. Of course, if I do use one of your suggestions, you will be mentioned in the chapter where I utilize that idea. I must give credit where credit is due. :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Rehabilitation

**A/N: I realized now that I may have switched up between the nations' human names and their countries. I will be doing that throughout the rest of the story because I can never make up my mind as to which name to use. So I'm using them both. As for the updates, they might start to get infrequent, it just depends on how constant my inspiration is. It took me a little longer than I would have liked to get through this chapter, but it is what it is. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter and don't forget to drop me a review to let me know what you think. :)**

When I awoke, the sky was still dark. Looking over at the nightstand, the clock read 5:45. I groaned inwardly and began to throw aside the covers to get ready for the day. Memories of the day before flooded through my mind, but none of them seemed like they could be a reality. Had Romano actually taken care of me and fretted over me like I was a child? Had Prussia given up the chance to tease and molest me just because of the sight of my face?

Had I really broken it off with Germany?

When I finally was able to move into a sitting position, and every muscle in my body ached, I knew my suspicions were true.

I glanced around myself in confusion, not entirely sure what to do with myself now that I didn't have to get up and go for a painfully long run with Germany. Remembering what Romano had said to me last night just before I had knocked out, I decided that a shower did sound like a good start to the day.

Gritting my teeth through the pain, I threw the covers off and slowly made my way to the bathroom. I didn't want to turn the light on, partly because I knew it would momentarily blind me, but mostly because if I did turn the light on, I would be forced to look at myself in the mirror, and that thought scared me. If my appearance was enough to throw off Prussia and to get Romano to take care of me as gently as he had last night, then I must have looked like absolute horror.

But I couldn't fumble around in the bathroom without turning the light on. It had been so long since I had been inside anyone's bathroom but Germany's, and my mind and body had not yet readjusted to life back at home.

Gulping down my fear, I squinted my eyes and flicked on the light switch.

The image that was reflected back at me in the mirror couldn't have been my own. It just couldn't. Taking a step closer, I shuddered at the sight that was before me. I looked like a completely different person. Like I had just stepped off of a horror movie set.

The whole left side of my face was swollen and an ugly, deep purple. There were similar bruises down my neck and littering my shoulders. Small cuts were crisscrossed over my shoulders where Germany's fingernails had bit into my skin. Faint scars glittered palely in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath, I took a few steps back from the mirror and glanced down at the lower half of my body. A shudder ran through my spine at the sight of the deep purple bruise poking out from the bottom of my boxers. I could see the angry red cuts crisscrossed over my hipbones, disappearing underneath the elastic of my shorts. As I stared at the cuts, the memories of Germany's rough treatment and his harsh words began to flood my mind again. Not just memories of last night, but memories from throughout the six years we had been together.

I could feel Germany's hands on my wrists, forcing my arms above my head as he towered over me. I could feel his hot breath roaming over my skin and his teeth as he bit down hard on my neck. The weight of his body crushing me against the bed. My heart rate began to rise; I could feel it beating frantically against my rib cage. Bile rose in my throat at the memory of Germany's hungry gaze as he looked my body over, at the comments he made about the marks he had inflicted.

My elbow bumped into the tiled wall behind me, and I jolted violently out of my hallucination. My heart was pounding in my chest, my breathing coming in short, quick gasps. Sweat drenched my body, quickly soaking what little clothing I had on.

"I can't do this," I said aloud to myself, watching as my reflection mimicked every movement. "I can't, I can't, I can't." My eyes began to race back and forth, my body began to shake. With the bathroom wall against my back, I slid to the floor. The tears came quick, spilling onto the floor as I absentmindedly twisted my fingers. My bones knocked and ground together, sending a dull pain down through my wrist and up my arm. I didn't care. I could barely feel it. The only thing I could feel was the panic closing its grip on my heart, seeping through my muscles and flowing through my veins.

I began to rock. The knots of my spine tapped against the wall as I shook and cried, trying to remember anything but the way Germany's hands had felt as they curled around my biceps. I remembered the way I had tripped over my own feet as he shoved me away from him, landing heavily on my bottom and knocking my head into the door. I remembered the shooting pain I had felt as I stared up at him in fear. His menacing form towered over me, a glint in his eye as he leaned down once again and reached for my arm.

A gentle hand took hold of my shoulder, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. A small shriek escaped my lips as I looked quickly towards the owner of the hand.

Antonio.

Relief flooded my veins and I sagged forward helplessly, falling into Spain's arms and crying harder. I could hear his voice as he whispered soothingly into my ear, but I couldn't make out the words.

Another pair of arms wrapped around my body tightly, and another familiar voice began speaking in my ear. I knew immediately it was Romano. I could hear the struggle he was going through as he fought away the harsh words he usually spoke, swapping them out for words of encouragement as he tried to calm me down.

When the tears stopped, I looked up into Romano's eyes and smiled weakly. "You're the best brother anyone could ever ask for, you that, Lovino?" His cheeks burned crimson as he stared down at me, mumbling something incoherently as he and Spain helped me to my feet and out of the bathroom.

Once again, my plans to shower had been snatched away from me.

 **A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, guys. I had expected it the longer, but then I realized that this would be a perfect place to leave off. Let me know what you think in a review, and don't forget to favorite and follow. :)**


	5. Chapter 5: Storytime

**A/N: Oh man, this is a long one. So, I had started rewatching Hetalia since it's been years since I last watched any episodes. Let me tell you, there was so much that I had missed the first time around, I'm a little disappointed in myself. I might readjust some characters to fit their personalities later on in this chapters, it just depends on how I feel about them the longer this story progresses. But anyway, here is the fifth chapter. I hope you enjoy reading, and don't forget to drop a review to let me know what you think. :)**

I was sitting on my bed once again, both Spain and Romano sitting on either side of me. Their arms were wrapped around my back, their hands gripping my waist to keep me sitting up straight. My eyes still raced back and forth and my body still shook slightly, but I had calmed down for the most part.

Romano sighed in relief once he noticed I was gaining back my control. He slowly retracted his arm from around my waist and switched from his position on the bed beside me to kneel before me on the floor. He took my still-shaking hands in his and brought them to his mouth. I felt the faintest touch of his lips on my knuckles as he stared deeply into my eyes.

Feeling my brother's warm hands wrapped around mine and staring into his harsh, steayd eyes, I was able to calm down completely. The shaking stopped and my eyes were able to focus on Romano's.

It was a while before anyone said anything. It was just Romano kneeling on the ground in front of me, our eyes locked together. I could feel his pulse through his fingers, and I focused on the beating of his heart, slowing my breathing down to match it.

Finally, I couldn't stand the silence anymore. "I'm sorry for all the trouble, you guys, but I'm fine now. You can go back to bed." My voice was faint even to my own ears, and I cringed internally.

I was still staring into Romano's eyes, so I saw the way his eyes flashed in frustration and narrowed slightly. He opened his mouth to say something - probably to scold me for being stupid - but Spain beat him to it.

"We aren't going to go anywhere until we're sure you're okay, Feli." I could feel Antonio's grip strengthen on my waist momentarily before his touch vanished completely. "We worry about you. No contact for months, and even when you did reach out to us, the conversations were always short. No wonder. You were trying to hide this from us. Why didn't you tell us, Feli?"

The accusatory tone that crept into Antonio's voice in that last question did not escape my notice. I tore my eyes away from Romano's and stared at a small patch of the carpet to the left of me. My fingers twitched inside Romano's grip. My breathing started to pick up once more as I thought of what to say next, where to start in my explanation of my feelings for the last six years.

Romano must have sensed my rising panic, because he squeezed my hands and kissed my knuckles once more. "You don't have to tell us right away, Feliciano. When you're ready to talk, we'll be right here to listen. But right now, I think it's time we try to do that showering thing again, don't you agree?"

I chuckled as I saw Romano's nose crinkle slightly, his lip curling into a playful grimace. "Yes, I would very much like to do that."

Romano released my hands and stood, motioning for Antonio to follow him. When he reached the door, he looked over his shoulder. "I'll make you a frattata, so make sure to not take super long in the shower and to come down to the kitchen when you're dressed, okay? You need to eat." And with that, he was out of the room, the door closing with a soft _click_ behind him.

Sighing, I stood and made my way back to the bathroom. The light was still on. I gulped and made my way towards the shower, taking extra care to keep my eyes averted from the mirror. When the water was warm enough, I slid out of my boxers and stepped underneath of the spray.

A sigh escaped my lips at the feeling of the water. I could feel my stress draining from my body along with the water down the drain as I leaned my head back and breathed deeply. After the last few days, a hot shower was definitely what I needed.

As I showered, I made sure to be extra careful of the cuts and scrapes that adorned my body. The soap stung and brought tears to my eyes whenever I would accidentally brush over a cut too rough, but at least I knew they would be clean after this.

I tried not to think about anything while I washed myself in the shower. To my surprise, it worked. I did not think of a single thing while in the shower except about how warm the water was and how good it felt on my naked skin.

With the towel wrapped around my waist, I braved a second glance in the bathroom mirror. I wiped away the steam and stared at myself in disbelief once again. The bruises and cuts were still there. My jaw was still swollen and my shoulders were an angry, viscious red. My brown eyes sparkled in the light, and I wasn't sure yet if it was because of the tears that were threatening to spill over at the sight of my sorry self, or if it was just a trick of the light.

I turned violently away from the mirror at the first touch of a tear on my cheek. I couldn't cry anymore. I had to stop crying. It was over. Everything was over and I was back home with my brother. There was no need to cry.

I kept repeating my mantra to myself as I decided what I should wear for the day. A lot of my clothes were still at Germany's (I had never had the chance to pack any of my things before I left), so my options were scarce. I finally settled on a plain white button up and slacks. I left my shirt only half-buttoned, however. My fingers had failed to function before they had even made it halfway up my chest.

With one last look in the mirror, I nodded my head and made my way downstairs.

Romano and Spain were downstairs in the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a plateful of frattata sitting at an empty seat beside Romano. My mouth watered at the sight and smell, and my stomach grumbled. I didn't realize how hungry I was until this very moment.

I sat down and dug in.

I could feel Romano's eyes on me as I ate, and Spain's nervous energy filled the kitchen are. I could tell both of them were thinking of what to say to me, and it was obvious that I had been the topic of their conversation before I had come downstairs. Having all this attention on me, especially while I ate, made me anxious. No one had paid me any mind for the last six years, and now everyone was suddenly concerned. Even with understanding the circumstances for why they were this concerned, it still made me unreasonably angry.

As I finished my frattata and drained an entire glass of milk in one gulp, I turned angry eyes onto Romano. I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to say, or even why I was angry at his concern. All I knew, was that I was angry, and I wanted to let it out.

Romano, however, spoke before I could. "We were so worried about you, Feliciano, that we barely got any sleep last night. I kept expecting to hear you sneaking off back to that potato bastard."

"Would you have stopped me if I had tried to leave?" My voice was quiet, a breathy whisper as I turned my eyes down towards my empty plate.

Romano scoffed. "Of course, you dummy. After seeing what he did to you, I'll do everything in my power to keep you away from him. Even if you beg and plead to go back to him, I won't let you." I felt his hand land on my shoulder and squeeze reassuringly.

"So, I guess you can consider yourself his prisoner for the rest of your life," Spain chuckled uneasily from the other side of the table.

Romano chuckled softly, as well, but I couldn't find it in my heart to laugh at Spain's good-natured joke. _Prisoner_. That's exactly what I had been before leaving Germany's place. His prisoner. And while I knew that Romano and Spain would never treat me the way Germany had, the thought still sent a shot of panic through my bones.

 _Prisoner_.

Sensing my rising panic, Romano squeezed his hand on my shoulder one more time and rubbed the back of my neck. His long fingers tangled in my hair, and the feeling of his brotherly affection calmed me down enough to explain my situation more clearly.

Romano and Spain listened to my story carefully. Neither of them interrupted while I spoke, although I could tell they had many questions. At the end of the tale, I let them ask their questions and tried not to let it bother me how much I had withdrawn from the real world.

"Do you know why he changed suddenly like that?" Spain asked. His hands were intertwined with mine and Romano's from across the table.

I shook my head. "I suppose it wad a subtle thing, which is why I didn't notice it right away. But to be fair, I don't think I would have left even if he had changed like that overnight. I would have just chalked it up as another stressful day with his boss, and I would have done anything he said and everything in my power to make him feel better."

"So you mean to tell me that you've just assumed it was a rough day at the office for the last _two years_? Feli, that's dumb." Romano's voice was harsh as he critisized me, his eyes hard and slitted as he stared into mine.

I shook my head, biting my lip and staring down at the table. "I didn't want to leave, I had thought that by me staying, he would realize that he had changed and go back to the Luddy I had fallen in love with."

"And when he didn't see that after the one-hundredth bruise he left on you, you still decided to stay?!" Romano released my hand and stood up suddenly from the table, his momentum knocking the chair to ground. The bang as it hit the floor was loud, and I flinched away from Romano's menacing prescence.

With one more disgusted look at me, he stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Spain still held onto my hand. I could see the pain in his eyes, but whether he was hurting for me or Romano, I didn't know. Finally, Spain stood and walked around the table, encompassing me in his arms. I felt the brush of his lips as he kissed the top of my head. "Romano isn't mad at you, Feli, I promise he's not," Spain whispered. "He's just angry that he had let this happen, that he hadn't known any of this was going on, and that it had gotten as far as it did."

The problem was, Spain didn't sound like he was trying to convince me; he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.


	6. Chapter 6: Support

Romano was upstairs in his room. When Spain and I entered, he was sitting on the bed with his back towards the door, staring blankly at a painting on the wall. I followed his gaze and recognized the painting immediately: I had painted that soon after Romano and I had met for the first time. It was a large painting of the angry brunette's chibi body lost in a sea of multi-colored lilies. The ocean peeked through the flowers, showing vaguely that the flowers were indeed growing from the water.

"When you painted this, Feliciano, do you remember what you told me when I asked about the facial expression you decided to give me?" Romano's voice was soft, a touch of melancholy creeping into his words.

My eyes focused on the expression of chibi Romano in the painting, my thoughts transporting me back to that day when I had excitedly shown Romano my masterpiece.

 _"Fratello, look what I painted for you!" Feliciano bounced his way over to Romano, the painting hidden behind his back and covered with a cloth._

 _Romano's eyes narrowed dangerously, his gaze shifting to the large square frame hidden behind the other's back. "I don't want anything from_ _ **you**_ _," he quipped, pulling back in disgust as Feliciano skidded to a halt in front of him._

 _"Don't you want to see what I made for you, fratello?" Feliciano's eyes watered at the hateful look on Romano's face, but when his brother didn't say anything, Feliciano took that as the okay to continue._

 _He took a step back and brought the painting out from behind his back. Beaming proudly, Feliciano ripped the cover off of the painting and held it up for Romano to see._

 _The cranky Italian stared at the painting for a long while, the disinterested expression never leaving his face. When he finally spoke, it was with an agitated, haughty voice._

 _"Why does my face look like that?"_

 _Feliciano was taken off guard. His eyebrows knotted together and his lips turned down into a frown. "Like what, Romano?" He turned the painting towards him, his eyes immediately going to the sad, lost expression he had painted on the other's face._

 _Feliciano lit up, his smile growing so large it was almost painful. "You're always so angry, and at first I thought it was because of me. But then after spending more time with you, I realized that you aren't angry at all - you're just sad. Sad and lonely, and the only way you know how to express those feelings is through rage. I was hoping that by reminding you of your sadness inside, and by telling you that it is okay, that no one will judge you for how you feel, that you would become less angry and stop yelling so much."_

My eyes watered at the memory. The words resounded through my mind, repeating over and over. I walked around the bed and sat beside Romano, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"Of course I remember, fratello. I'll never forget those words and the way your face looked after trying to deny that you weren't sad." I chuckled as Romano elbowed me lightly in the ribs.

"Well, think of those words again and apply them to yourself, Feliciano. You're not just sad on the inside, though. We can see. And it's okay to be sad. I'll help you get through this, and so will all of our friends. You can count on us."

I cried. Not because I was sad, but because of how Romano's words made me feel. Loved. Touched. Vulnerable.

I felt the bed dip as another body joined us from the other side. Antonio placed his hand on the top of my head and ruffled my hair gently. I could hear him sniffling from behind me, and it only made my tears fall harder and my sobs louder.

I wasn't alone. Romano cared about me, and so did Spain. And I'm sure if England and France knew about the situation, they would be here comforting me as well.

The thought of our other friends made me worry once again about Germany. I sat up straight and looked over at Romano, trying to hide just how scared I was. "What are we going to do if Germany comes looking for me? What if we're out with the others and he sees me?" Despite my efforts, the trembling of my voice could not be hidden.

Romano looked back at me. "Well, common courtesy is not to enter someone's home without being invited in, so if he were to find you here, I would have no choice but to fight him. And you won't have to worry about him finding you outside, either. I think it would be best if you stayed inside the house for a little while, at least until your physical wounds heal."

My shoulders sagged at the news of being locked inside yet another house. Except this time, it will be my own.

Spain must have seen my disappointment, because he interjected quickly. "Of course, you won't be alone though, Feli. We would never leave you alone while you're going through this. I mean, what if you have another panic attack? Me or Lovi will always be here to protect you."

I turned a sad smile to Antonio, looking at him over my shoulder. "Thank you, you two. But I think right now I want to go take a nap. I didn't sleep very well last night."

Romano and Antonio nodded silmultaneously, both of them jumping from the bed. "If you want, you can sleep on my bed for now. I know it must be more comfy for you than your own bed, considering the memories being in that room must conjure up." Romano straightened the pillows and fluffed them, motioning for me to lie down. I shook my head, remaining seated upright.

"I would like to sleep in my own bed," I stated firmly, sounding more confident than I felt. At Romano's and Spain's worred glances, I explained. "I need to stop being so afraid. You even said so yourself, Romano. I'm safe now. It's time that I start getting used to being home."

The worried expressions didn't waver, but Romano nodded. "Get going then, Feliciano. I'll wake you when it is time for supper."

Nodding gratefully, I hurried out of the room.

 **A/N: I don't know, I feel like someone who had just come out of an abusive relationship and was still somewhat in a kind of shock would want to sleep a lot. I know I like to sleep a lot when I'm upset, and Italians are naturally sleepy people, so I guess it fits? I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and don't forget to drop a review to let me know what you think. :)**


	7. Author's Note

I realize it's been a while since I've updated this story, and I wanted to apologize. I originally had been several chapters ahead when I had last updated, but as I rereading the story and the chapters, I realized that I needed to go through and edit some things. So, I am going to leave this story up while I edit the chapters, and then I will repost the story under the same title, but as a new story. That way, I don't lose everyone's interest and you darling readers don't lose the story. I will post another update on this version of the story once I have the first chapter up of the edited version. Once I get about three chapters in to the edited version, I will delete this one. Thank you all for you patience and I look forward to hearing from you again when I repost the newer version.


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